Mightyena Memories
by Doodling Shadows
Summary: To say she hated trainers could be a valid understatement. To say she loathed them for what they did to her, to Alexander... that would be a true statement. But after a move to Hoenn, there presents a new challenge that comes in the form of a pokemon. It looks like the only way to go is forward.
1. Prologue

**Summary:**

**To say she hated trainers could be a valid understatement. To say she loathed them for what they did to her... that would be a true statement. But a move to Hoenn presents a new challenge that comes in the form of a pokemon... It looks like the only way to go is forward.**

**~Updated (12/13): Added details/better execution and cleaned up some _really_ embarrassing misspelling~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon because, though I spitball and draw my own pokemon (mainly Eeveelutions) with my friends, I cannot speak Japanese. Zip. Zero. _None. _  
**

_Mightyena Memories, Prologue~_

To Izzy, that sleek, black-and-grey egg became her entire world the moment her father took it from behind his back. Sure, she had seen plenty eggs before, but this one was_ hers_. All hers. As soon as her father lowered it to her level, she was off, prize in hand, streaming out of the room before he could catch her.

"Thank you! I love it!" Her squeaky voice rebounded off the high ceiling as she ran up to her room.

Her father sighed, a tired smile on his face. It had taking a while to even transfer that egg from Hoenn into Unova, the security being so tight. He only slipped it through due to the fact that it was an egg. Not that long ago, they were at war with the other region, and if it wasn't for Sinnoh separating them, it might have started back up soon after it ended. They were never on that good of terms in the first place, so that small blessing became a life-saver.

"What about your other presents," he called after her, hands cupped over his mouth. "Aren't you going to open them, too?"

"No thanks!"

But now as his daughter ran back down the hall, the fragile egg now strapped into a bag hanging across her chest, his smile grew wider, and despite his weariness, he chased after her. A few times she slipped out of his grasp, but when he did catch her, he held her tight as she struggled against him, giggling. He tickled her stomach (after carefully placing the egg in a safe place in the room) and all three of them laughed and had fun until later that night when the egg hatched into a Poochyena. She named him, with some help from her parents, Alexander – or Alex for short.

For almost four years she cared for that Poochyena, and Mightyena when it finally evolved two years later, and each day she spend with him was a lot of fun. Even when she enrolled and attended Poke-Academy, she always brought him along and he became the class pokemon almost immediately. They bonded over those four years and became very close, almost like a brother and sister; one was not without the other.

But like all good things, it came to a close.

November sixteenth, just one month shy of her tenth birthday, and the day she wished to become a pokemon trainer, became the day of hell. Pokemon stormed the city, letting loose flamethrowers and flame charging through buildings, destroying everything and hurting everyone. Fire was everywhere, on the ground and in the air, raining on already burning buildings.

It all, of course, started with the raining fire. Asteroids the size of a full-grown man's fist crashed into buildings and cars, even hitting one teenager as he ran away. Each time one hit something, it caught fire in a flash, almost like gasoline had been poured on the city. It ate everything in its site. But that wasn't the worst part.

The Plasma grunts came next, storming each and every intact house, demanding that they must release their pokemon or die. They acted just as vicious as their pokemon.

Now you might be wondering where Izzy, the girl soon to turn ten, went. Well, her house bordered the town, at an almost 140 degree angle from the attack, so it was one of the last to be burnt. They gained just barely enough time to let their pokemon flee into the forest before the assault of their own home. Only for them to burn the forest itself. Needless to say that Pinwheel Forest lost a good half of its wildlife in that fire while they lost their personal pokemon.

It was also needless to say that Izzy experienced her first true loss that day. She had seen some pokemon drift away as they were being treated, because they were either too beaten up, or were too old to cling to life. She had seen her mother kill a pokemon herself, when it had been mauled too severely by a raging Scolipede. But to experience the loss of a friend for four years, a pokemon so close to her that she considered him a brother, when you sent him to that death, thinking it was for his own good?

It crushed her heart and tore her spirit like a heart and spirit shouldn't be for her age, at that age where they should only be beginning on the path of friendship and loss. She shouldn't have experienced that at her age, but she did. And the only thing worse was that her mother escaped with the pokemon, to keep them together and safe.

In the deep gap left, a kindle of rage was fostered. A rage directed at pokemon trainers in general. An anger that dissipated her wish to become one herself.

Each day afterward became agonizing and hard to cope with. In that attack, hardly any of her friends survived, and those that did either flew away to another country, or were too injured to be capable of becoming a pokemon trainer. She was the only left intact, whole, and that made it hurt even worse.

It took but a year before her father signed his form of resignation and moved them to another country, away from the destruction and endless tears. Hoenn was their destination, one of the few places her father deemed safe enough, with her cousin, Aynn.

But it was also where Alexander, as an egg, came from.

They were out of Unova, yes, but Izzy's life only became a little better, turning from a constant reminder of her loss into a bumpy rise of fake smiles and tearful nights; of her cousin attempting to plead her to become a trainer; of staying inside where she knew the pokemon could not reach her - knew they wouldn't cause her the pain and misery, knew their trainers couldn't invoke her anger and despair. She locked herself away.

But at the age of fourteen, she looked out her bedroom window, at the pattering rain after an especially difficult nightmare that left her restless and crying. In between the sheets of water, she spotted the tiny, green shape of a pokemon.


	2. Izzy and the Cool Boy Type

_Mightyena Memories, Chapter 1~_

_Izzy and the Cool Boy Type._

I woke, chilled with sweat and panting, taking a quick glance around the room to assure where I was. Outside, I could hear the loud rain pound against the roof; around me, my extra pillows were scattered across my meticulously tidy bedroom floor; and above me, my ceiling seemed to stretch for meters, the ceiling fan bright purple in the dark. I groaned. Why did I chose a _neon _color for something I would undoubtedly see every time I woke from a nightmare? All it did was give me a headache - which I could very well do without nowadays.

I shifted on my bed, turning on my side. My blanket, thick and large, stayed as snug as before, and gave some comfort as my heart ached for the friend I lost over four years ago. I buried my face into my pillow, letting it catch my leaking tears. Nightmares always did this to me, warping my memories into viscous things that left me scared and upset.

For a while I just laid there, unable to fall asleep, only torturing myself by replaying the nightmare/memory over and over again. Each time hurt, like pressure was just being added to my chest, but I had long learned to cope with the pain. I knew I must get rid of the tears before the sun peaked the horizon, before I presented myself in the morning for breakfast.

I couldn't let my father see me in so much pain. It would break his heart.

My father lost my mother in the fire too, I knew that, and I also knew that the spark in his eye he had when I was little had also been lost. For the first year after her death, he cried at night. He cried so loudly and in such a heartbreaking way that when I heard the echoes and vibrations of them, it set me off on my own tear-fest. After a year though, he suddenly stopped, but I had the sneaking position that he only learned how to silently do so after realizing it caused me so much grief, to hear my idol, the one who had given me Alexander, sobbing loud enough for me to hear across the hall.

I remembered when he saw me that morning, bags under my red, puffy eyes, remembered when his own eyes darkened and he hugged me and apologized profusely for all that happened to cause our misery. I remember patting his back as he cried until I succumbed to my own guilty tears. Since then, whenever he saw me with puffy eyes, he gave me an apologetic look before he headed off to his job, not due to come back until sunset. I also knew that was partially my fault, too; a rift had formed between us since that hellish day, and even though both of us tried, it couldn't be closed. So we mainly stayed distant.

That was the main reason, but there were several, smaller points of my life that I just don't freely try to bring up.

So after what seemed like hours of lying there and trying to get rid of the tears, I finally calmed down enough. I rose from my comfortable position on the bed. The rain outside lured my interest, and it was something to look at, so I hopped on to the floor and made my way to the window. With one hand, I moved the curtain to the side, and peered out.

The first thing I noticed when I slid the curtain back was the pouring rain coming down in sheets, covering everything in a silvery haze. Next were the two orbs of yellow piercing the darkness, large and round, like the eyes of a pokemon. The two black pupils were slit, similar to the pupils of a Liepard, reminding me of the curious, yet patient and protective gaze of Alexander in a way. Just the memory sent shivers down my spine. But yet, I could not look away.

As the rain began to lead off to an inconsistent drizzle several moments later, the eyes gained a body: a red stomach stood out against a green body; an impatient tail swayed behind it, swirling the accumulated water; two bumps rose from its head, almost like inquiring eyebrows. They seemed to ask, "Well, aren't you going to come out here?"

_Alexander barked outside the window, trying to get my attention. When I finally looked outside, the Poochyena stared at me with a pleading gaze. _"I'm lonely. Come play with me, Izzy," _his look said. _

I tore my gaze away, letting the curtain fall back into place. My knees touched the floor when I crouched down, groping the minimized pokeball hanging from the leather bracelet on my left hand. Its dull shine only made my heart ache - the pokeball belonged to Alexander, my Mightyena, my first and only pokemon.

I clenched my eyes closed. The terrible memory was still fresh in my mind, made even fresher by the fact that it was all my nightmares consisted of.

_The flamethrower burst out of the Flygon's mouth, straight towards the forest, sending a wave of heat when it grew close. I had huddled with my father, hugging him tightly in my quaking fear. I heard him holler something I couldn't hear, and a loud _boom_ sounded behind us, back in the leafy forest our pokemon fled to on our request. My father's warning came too late as the trees were engulfed in raging flames. The panicked yipping of Alexander reached my ears, and I knew he hadn't fled far enough to escape the flamethrowers repeatedly aimed at them. _

_I let out a low wail into my father's shirt, knowing it was too late to save them. I knew, even at ten, that even pokemon were vulnerable to such a catastrophe. __I clung to the fabric desperately as I kept keening, noticing that my Mightyena also let out a long howl before falling to silence. Tears rolleld down my cheeks in a steady stream. _

_"It's better they're dead than held as slaves for any human," one of the attacking Team Plasma grunts remarked in a mere whisper I could barely hear. But I did hear, and my heart flared in anger and grief. _

_What did they know about a pokemon's feelings? What did _they_ know about the bonds between human and pokemon?_

When I glanced back at the ceiling, back in my room, I had to force back the welling tears.

It had all happened so fast. The years I spent with my pokemon were all erased in a mere few hours, replaced with a gut-clenching grief. Each day became a variant of misery. No day was without loneliness. Once I accepted the fact that I would never be able to romp around with my Mightyena anymore, never feel his silky black mane, never laugh whenever he tripped up on his feet, like when he did after he first evolved... Once I accepted that, I only began to mourn the loss of my closest companion even harder.

It's been four, whole years since then.

Time sure slows down when you grieve, I thought bitterly. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around or something?

My gaze traveled back to the curtain, and I stood on stiff legs. The flashback could have had me there for a while, I realized. I moved the curtain to the side and peeked out. It _must_ have been a while, because the sky had partially cleared and the very first rays of the sun were struggling to break the horizon surface. The Treecko had disappeared, too.

I felt a flicker of disappointment inside me, and I grasped Alexander's pokeball tighter. My mouth turned down in a frown. Maybe those yellow eyes reminded me more of my past than just Alex. I tasted a salty tang on my lips, and I realized that I must have begun to cry again. Dang hormones.

I knew that wasn't the reason, but blaming my overwhelming grief on something once and a while lightened the pain somewhat.

Furiously wiping them away, hoping my eyes hadn't puffed up too bad from all the crying, I made my way into the kitchen. But first I stopped in the bathroom to check my face.

My eyes were bad. Puffed up considerately, they kept catching my attention each time I stared at my freckled face and tired, brown eyes. Even my wild brown hair didn't detract this - if anything, it only added to the crazed look. I knew I hadn't gotten nearly enough time to sleep as of late, when my days were misery in themselves and all my dreams consisted of were terrible variations of that day.

My own form, though a bit on the gaunt side, didn't show as much misuse as my hair and eyes except for the overall paleness accompanied by entire days spent indoors. I did at least attempt to eat - I wasn't suicidal or so depressed that I couldn't stuff down three small meals a day.

An act was an act, though, and my only true solace, and cringing grief, laid inside my room. It was the one place where I didn't worry as much about letting it all come out. My father and Aynn weren't home for most of the day, leaving me to go to school - yes, regular old school, where all the people not planning on becoming pokemon masters go to at least be useful in life and society as a whole. Not that I really went a forth of a time.

And today was one of those fourths.

I brushed through my wild hair a few times, struggling through the tangles and Rattata nests created from restless sleep. Again, I wondered whether I should ask my father to pay for a trip to the hair-stylist, if only to permanently - well, okay, _temporarily _- straighten my hair just so this problem wouldn't arise.

Once I gathered my hair back into a bun to keep it controlled, brushed my teeth, and washed my face, I looked once again in the mirror. Satisfied that I looked a great deal better, I headed into the kitchen, trying not to betray my thrashing emotions. I must at least keep up the impression. But when I got into the dining room, I noticed that I was the only occupant of the house at that time.

My father had already apparently left for work, so I summed it up to an early shift, trying to ignore how much the gap left me lonely, and read the note he left on the refrigerator: _Today you don't need to go to school, though I would like it if you tried to make more friends your age, Izzy. I took the long shift so I won't be returning until past your bedtime. I'm sorry kiddo. Love you - Dad _

After rereading it, I folded it neatly and reattached it to the fridge with my own response: _It's okay, dad, I understand. I love you too - Izzy_

My heart throbbed in my chest, making me feel dejected. I still liked to spend time with my dad, if only it was a fleeting few minutes. I still liked to be the daddy's girl I was as a child. Shaking my head, I thought about other things.

I went to gathering my latest read and fixing myself breakfast. The title was Xavier Forever, a sort of paradox journey book about procuring happiness from a desolate land filled with very few pokemon and fewer people. It was a pretty good read, going into depth of happiness and grief and the differences and similarities between the two all while keeping a rather complicated plot. The main protagonist was not the one called Xavier, but the person who helped him along in finding peace and happiness was - pushing him from darker and darker situations where, though there may not be death, there was utter despair. Over six hundred pages in all, I loved it, even though I hadn't reached the end, but by the way it presented itself, I doubted there would be a happy one. Overall, it was a very dark book, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Through it, I forgot about my own despair to instead focus on the book's.

After pulling the book from my nightstand and fixing me a blueberry bagel topped with strawberry cream cheese, I stepped down a small flight of four steps and sat myself down on our leather love-seat, extending it and getting myself comfortable. But a sound interrupted me just as I opened it up to where my bookmark took hold, just before I immersed myself into the story.

The sound was scratching, the kind you would hear when your dear Purrloin or Skitty wanted in at night, meowing and raking their small claws against the wood door.

I sighed heavily, placing my bagel on the stand next to the love-seat, pushing myself up and off of it, agitated. Who was here at - I checked the clock - six-thirty in the freakin' morning?

Unlocking the door, I pulled it slightly open and stuck my head outside. Obviously, it must have been a pokemon, so I looked down instead of eye-level. What I expected to see was a stray cat-pokemon sitting pathetically on my doorstep, but instead I got the same pokemon I spotted outside my window only an hour or so ago. Eyes half-lidded and very annoyed, it had its arms crossed over its chest while water dripped down it's body and tail, falling on the already soaked concrete.

"Treecko," it said in a blunt tone. I stared dumbly at it, still in shock that it actually came up to our front porch-step, before it raised one arm and pointed a stubby finger at me. "Treecko tree!" When I still didn't seem to understand, it threw up its hands in an exasperated gesture before spitting out a few phrases in pokemon, which I deduced probably weren't praising my intellect.

"Well I'm sorry I can't understand pokemon," I said, frowning. "It's not like I have a pokemon translator or anything to help this communication process."

The Treecko gave something akin to what I assumed was a sigh, and walked through the gap between the door and frame left by my head. It seemed an easy fit, probably because it was the first of its evolutionary line-up - a basic starter of the Hoenn region to be exact.

Wait, a _starter_. This could be another trick created by my cousin. She always seemed to be scheming something to place me on a journey as a pokemon trainer. The schemes ranged from bribery to attempting to create a licence under my nose so I would be forced to. They all failed, though this would be the first time this one popped up - she never tried forcing a pokemon onto me. Sure, she tried getting me to babysit pokemon and signing me up for daycare volunteering work, but I always slipped by them. This pokemon, though, came all on its own, and I was wary.

"Tree treecko," it said, snapping me out of my thought process. It's eyes were looking me up and down, no doubt calculating me. After a moment it gave a huff before climbing up the love-seat and plopping down on one of the cushions. It's half-lidded gaze continued to watch me blankly.

"Are you male or female?" I asked the first question on my mind, sitting down next to it. Finding out the gender was an important thing when presented with a new pokemon, my father always told me. "One 'treecko' for male, two for female." I held up a finger for one and two for two.

"Treecko." Okay, so I guess it -_ he - _was bright enough to pick up on our language. Most wild pokemon couldn't do that. But then again, this Treecko was obviously not wild, if it's attitude and the way it just strutted into the house said anything. He was obviously comfortable in human spaces, but why was he here? Then again my mind went back to entertaining the idea that this whole set-up would end up another one of my cousin's crazy schemes.

But then a memory, fuzzy at the edges, popped into my mind. It was of when my father picked up that grey bundle of fur so small that he could carry it in his palm. My father held it perpendicular to the ground and moved its tail out of the way before declaring that the Poochyena was indeed a male. Afterwards we debated on a name; I first said Pooch but it was shot down by my parents who wanted a more original name. After a while of Back-and-Forth I finally decided on Alex, and my mother lengthened it to Alexander.

Those were happy days that I dearly miss.

"Tree-treecko!"

I blinked away my memory and turned to the small grass type. I wiped my eyes, bringing them away to find that I hadn't shed a single tear, which was odd. Reviewing those moments in time almost always at least made my eyes water. I must have thought about that too long, for the grass pokemon had climbed up my arm, reminding me who wanted my attention in the first place. _  
_

"Yes?" I asked, gently pushing the clingy Treecko off my arm, in which he responded by holding firm and staring curiously at me with his large yellow eyes. "Look, could you at least get off my arm so I can speak without you breathing on my face, please?"

"_Treecko_!"

"I guess that's a no then." I sighed. This Treecko was as stubborn as a Bouffalant, just condensed and stuffed into a smaller package. "So what do you want?"

"Tree treecko tree!" It pointed a finger to me, then back to it, before finally settling to point at the door, exclaiming another "Tree!"

I tried to piece it together. Me, him, door - no, outside. But why outside? Did he want me to follow him? I asked the question aloud and he responded with a furious nod.

"Okay..." I uncertainly said. "Let me finish my bagel." It couldn't do any harm to follow him, could it? I mean, most likely, the starter pokemon was taking me to Professor Holly - the pokemon professor who took up residence in Vertandurf town. She took up the position of Professor in co-existence along with Professor Birch, who lived in Newleaf, a while away from here. The Rusturf tunnel, having been blocked up by an earthquake some odd years ago, separated us from them, and though Professor Holly loved to travel, much like Professor Birch, she didn't take plane well. So just for convenience of travel, she stayed on this side of the region.

She was an odd-ball in my opinion though, so I hardly ever visited her except for the times my cousin's schemes brought her to the pokemon researcher's lab.

I grabbed the blueberry bagel, generously topped with strawberry cream cheese, and took a bite out of one of the halves. I usually didn't eat a whole lot in the morning, leaving that act for dinner, working my appetite up by slightly enlarging each meal. After finishing the long-gone-cold half, I split the other into half as well.

"Here." I handed the Treecko the quarter-bagel, which he took uncertainly. But once he sniffed the organic blueberries baked into the bagel - Aynn was a good cook, I had to admit, though she did have the loopiest ideas - his eyes widened and he stuffed it down quickly, hesitation gone. I barely saw it as it disappeared into his stomach. _Dude, _that Treecko needed to learn the act of chewing.

Standing up from the love-seat, I stepped the bare few feet up to the door. Opening the door, I let the pokemon out before me. I quietly shut it, making sure it was totally closed, and locked it with the spare key hidden in a special compartment in the bottom of the metal mail box. Both my cousin and father were superstitious as dark type trainers.

After that, I let the Treecko lead me through the town. He seemed to know the streets pretty well, further proving that he must have been a lab pokemon at least.

We traveled down several streets, taking sharp turns and round-about journeys. As we walked down yet another street, I looked to the right to see the bright, sky blue texture of my house.

"You don't know where the hell you're going, do you?"

**A/N: **

**I'm so sorry it took a long time for this to come out, and I know it's not that long, but I'll try and make the next one much longer, since it will have much more to say in it. Otherwise, if you are wondering why the heck she has so many paragraphs where she is thinking about many different stuff is that she is one of those people who thinks A LOT when she is alone. The further it gets into the story, the less you'll see of these unless she is alone with her pokemon, but if you do like them tell me in a review and I'll get back to you.**

**Again, I'll try to make the next chapter longer now that 1) I've gotten a lot more planning done, 2) I owe it to you for the long wait, and 3) It's Christmas break for me, so more time to chill and type up a good chapter or two. **

**See y'all next chapter. **

**Happy Writing!~**

**_-*Doodling Shadows**


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